As I Hang from the Ceiling
by ShadySailor
Summary: Brittany never thought it'd come to this. But as she stood on top of that chair, the roughness of the rope digging into her neck, she knew this is what needed to be done. She could hear the voice of the one person who could save her but she wasn't going to back down. As she heard footsteps making their way upstairs, she took that final step. All she heard was a faint "I love you"
1. My Name Is: Brittany S Pierce

Be careful what you say, you never know what's going on in someone's life. Your words may be the ones to finally break them.

Prologue

Look into my eyes

can you see its all a disguise

I hide the pain so well

With just a glance you can't tell

All the hurt is washed away

But the pain creeps back in some way

No one notices at all

As I hide behind my stone wall

I keep up the game

I live for fame

Until it all comes crashing down

My emotions are hidden

To know me is forbidden

I have no friends

So when it all ends

I only bring me down

 _"Sir, I'm sorry to inform you of this..."_

 _"This is all your fault"_

 _"There was nothing we could do..."_

 _"I'm going to make you pay"_

 _"Is there anyone you need to call?"_

 _"How could you let this happen?"_

 _"I'm sorry daddy"_

 _"You don't know what sorry is! I'm going to make you pay for this for the rest of your life!"_

 _"Daddy no!"_

I hate this part. I hate having to remember the day this all began. That was the moment it really set in. That was when I really knew he hated me. That I hated myself.

The damp sheets are sticking to my skin, my breathing is heavy, and I'm acutely aware of everything. It's been awhile since I've had this nightmare. Since I've smelt the blood and gunpowder, heard the sirens, tasted the regret. Every second is like a slideshow in my mind that I can't seem to put a stop to. It makes my already rigid breaths even harder to exhale. I can hear the roaring of the blood pumping through my veins. I want to move, to free my limbs from their confinement beneath my comforter but everything just feels so heavy. With this elephant on my chest and this rope around my wrists and ankles, I don't know if I'll ever be able to remove myself from this bed, this slaughterhouse.

"Brittany, get your ass down here now!" The booming voice shakes my walls, shatters my eardrums, and leaves me broken.

"Yes sir!" I yell back with only a fraction of the strength I wish I had. I remember when the smell of pancakes would fill my nose and make my mouth salivate. When there was a warmth that would bring me into its arms and hold me. Now there's only the stench of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol induced vomit to burn the hairs in my nostrils. That warmth is now a bitter coldness that pierces my heart. A symbol of how much my life has truly changed. How the man, who I once called my father, sitting in that creaky chair has changed. My hot breakfast has been exchanged for a few pieces of old cereal and, if I'm lucky, a couple of drops of overdue milk.

"What have I told you about sleeping past my alarm?" A gruff voice asks me.

"That I should never be asleep a second later then when it goes off." I say back softly

"Speak up! You know I hate when you mumble."

I flinch but quickly repeat what I said, louder than before.

"Then why did I not see you right where you are now when I walked into this kitchen?" His voice carried an eery calmness.

"I-I don't know" I knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"You don't know?"

"No sir"

His fist collided with the table, sending splinters of wood, along with my half empty glass of water, to the floor.

"You don't know! How dare you sit there and lie right to my face. You know exactly why you were late. Why don't you just admit it!" I can see the veins bulging from his neck and the waves of his hatred are drowning me.

"I-I overslept, that's it!"

"That's bullshit and you know it!"

"I really did!"

"You better get out of my sight now before I send you to live with your mother!" I'm stuck in my chair. I'm trying to make sense of what he just said. Trying to see if I heard him correctly.

"I'm going to give you one last chance" his breath on my face makes me want to shrivel up and die but it's enough to bring my body to the present and run.

"When you get back, clean up this mess you've made!" Of course I'm left picking up the pieces of myself that he's left there on the floor once again.

Call me what you please. Say what you want. But don't ever pretend like you know me. You don't and never will. I keep people away for a reason, I keep things close for a reason. Once you let something out, you can never get it back in. No one ever said life was easy, but they sure as hell never said it was this hard. Keeping up with everyone around you is too much work. There are too many people in this world who are fake. Who are willing to bring you into their life only to stab you in the back the very next day. I can't risk having those kinds of people in my life. I can't risk the damage they could do.

If I knew I was gonna hate who I am, then I would have refused to be born. That way, everything that I keep inside wouldn't exist. There would be no constant need to keep people at a distance. To look over my shoulder every time a door slams or someone yells. I wouldn't have this constant panic every second of every day. There would be no reason to run and hide. No reason to flinch every time someone touches me. I wouldn't be afraid.

I get the great pleasure of attending William McKinley High School. Those are words that I can add to my list of things that have never been said. This place is nothing short of a prison. Every single move you make is monitored. Every single breath you take is calculated. This place sucks the soul right out of your body. Your first day here seems great. You think things are looking on the bright side, then you actually experience all this school has to offer and slowly but surely, you lose all sense of hope. I don't know if it's the black and red interior, the silver and white lockers, or that hint of mold that wafts through the air but something just makes this place feel like hell.

"Are you fucking serious you slut!" The anger in Puck's voice is evident.

"Well maybe if you weren't in my way, this wouldn't have happened!" I say in a nonchalant voice.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to!"

"The last time I checked you and I were the only ones having a conversation." I don't know where this confidence has come from, but I really wish it would go away. This was all my fault. I was the one who wasn't looking as I walked across the cafeteria. I was the one who spilled my lunch all over the star quarterback and I'm the one who is about to get the shit beat out of them if I don't shut up.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!" Puck yelled into my face.

"If I'm correct, I'm the one who no longer has a lunch. I think you should get me a new one considering you ruined my last one." What the hell am I doing? I know this is the day after but can my wish for death really be this strong? I know that my whole world is shattered and that nothing can put the pieces back together but is now the time to really seal my fate?

"That's it!" That's the last thing I hear before Puck grabs me by the throat, cutting off my air flow. I'm sure I have a look of pure fear on my face, a look I know very well.

"Puck! Stop it right now!" I could just hear a voice shout as I started losing consciousness.

"Set her down right now or so help me God I will make you regret ever being born!" I was going to tell him to join the club but the hand crushing my windpipe prevented me from doing so. I can feel my body crash to the floor and I try to suck in as much breath as I can, wheezing and gasping in the process. I just lay here on the floor even though I know people are staring at me. I was so close to death. To the ultimate release. But why was I so scared? That was what I wanted, what I needed. Yet, I didn't want it to happen. I didn't want my story to end. Why?

I lay here on the floor until the bell rings. I just can't bring myself to get up. I know I have to get to class. I know that if I don't go things will only get worse for me, but I can't move. I feel like I'm back in my bed, back under those sheets and they are holding me down.

"Miss?"

I jolt from my thoughts.

"Oh um sorry."

"Is there somewhere you ne-" the janitor stops mid-sentence and just stares at my neck.

"Is there a problem sir?"

"I think you should go to the nurse's office."

"Why?"

"They can call your parents and then you can go to the hospital."

"What?"

"Just follow me, I'll take you there." He goes to grab my arm but I flinch and his hand stops just inches short.

"Maybe I should get the nurse to come here, immediately. Just wait a second."

"No! I'm fine. I have to go!" I say as I run out of there as quickly as possible. I can barely hear him telling me to stop. That was a close call. I stop just outside of the girl's restroom and catch my breath. I go in as quietly as possible, just in case there are other people in here. I don't need to bring anymore attention to myself. Luckily there's no one else. I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding. I grip onto the sink so tightly that my hands turn white. I prepare myself to do something I haven't done in years. With a quick tilt of my head and no time to back out, I look at myself in the mirror. The involuntary gasp that slips past my lips echoes off the walls. The huge hand shaped bruises aren't what shocks me though. It's that fact that I don't even recognize the person I'm looking at. The bags under my eyes are a shade of black I didn't even know existed. My hair is no longer the brilliant color of blonde that it used to be but a dull, pale yellow. But what really gets me are my eyes. They have turned into a dark navy blue, no longer the color of the Caribbean Sea. They are void of all emotions. So empty, yet I can still feel the pain radiating out of them. I look away as quickly as I looked up. I can feel the moisture start to accumulate in my eyes. This isn't happening. Not here, not now. I do the only thing I know. I run.

The park has always been a means for me to escape this hell hole I call life. I used to come here when I was younger. But that was before everything happened. Being here brings up so many memories. The tears come back to my eyes but I know I can't cry. Anyone could could see and I don't need that. I don't want that. It would defeat the whole purpose of my coming here. It would bring attention to me. I hate attention. It's what brought me to where I am today. My mind, my soul, my heart. I just can't take it anymore. I don't know if I can survive the attention I'm getting now, let alone some more. I live by one motto: no attention is good attention, unless it's none at all. I've learned this over the years and I've learned it quick. Staying in the shadows is the best case scenario. Somehow though, it's like all eyes are on me, even when I try my hardest to stay hidden. I guess you can never stay hidden for long.

I don't know how long I've been here but it's starting to get dark. The stars are coming out of hiding and the sounds of the night can be heard. The sun has begun saying goodbye to everyone. The way the sun sets has always intrigued me. I love the way the sky takes on different shades of red and orange, and on occasion, purple. It truly captures the soul of anyone who has ever looked at a sunset. There's the dark souls represented by the black. The good souls represented by the orange and the hurt souls who represent themselves with red. I'm neither black or orange. I'm not even red. I'm that rare purple sky. The one that is too scared to come show itself all the time but when it does, it amazes the world. Us people who are purple, we are the lost souls.

I keep telling myself I need to get out more and that would be a great idea if I had somewhere to go. I don't have any friends. It's better that way. No one should ever be seen with me. It just wouldn't be fair. I don't want to drag anyone down with me. There's really no place for a girl like me. There never will be. I'm bound to this place. Stuck. No matter how hard I pull, I can't break free. Even with all the people around me, I'm all alone. The silence sometimes tried to suffocate me. If it weren't for the shame and pain I feel every day, I would think I was dead. But no. It's there. It's always there. That slowly burning flame that lights my world. With just a single blow it can all go dark. It can all be over. I think I'm just too much of a coward to go through with things. Another thing I can add to the list of things I hate about myself.

I guess you can say I've lost all hope, but even with all the hope drained from my body, it doesn't stop me from thinking about how my life would have been if things hadn't changed. If the world didn't hate me. I wouldn't have to hide who I am. My life would be livable. Not the lonely, deserted prison it is now.

Seconds tick off the clock, then minutes. I can't sleep. My brain won't let me. I'm all too aware of my surroundings. This is what I hate most about the night. I can never relax 'cause I know at any minute IT could happen. There's no pretending it's all ok. This is life. Not some shitty movie I can barely stand to watch. The pain is real. The feelings are real. No one is going to swoop in and save the day. No one is going to tell me everything is going to be alright. I know it won't. I will forever be scarred. You may not see the wounds but they're there. Every last one of them from the past eight years. Buried deep enough to fool everyone but shallow enough to remember. I'm the only one who can't be fooled by the mask, though it's mostly for me.

Nothing can make life bearable. No person, no thing. It's like I'm dead. Saying a prayer won't take away the memories. If it did, I would have long forgotten about all the things that have happened to me. I wouldn't know about pain and I would be happy.

Memories can only cause pain, whether they are good or not. They take you back to when everything was simple. They remind you how it's no longer that way. That smile that was plastered on your face as a child is not there. Thanks to life, you realize not everything lasts forever. You can't keep things that you love. They always disappear. The crazy thing is that I don't care anymore. My past is just an unshaken Polaroid. I can't even recall my first day of kindergarten. I would be lying if I said I've tried. The only things I remember are the memories of my mom. The only ones I care about.

Whispers come through the house. The echoes I have come to know. I know what's coming. I can't do it tonight. My only escape is to hide. I can only wait for it to be over. Footsteps come closer and closer. They bring with them the one thing called Terror. The creak of my door tells me it's here. As crazy as it sounds, I wish I was out there. I wish I could feel the pain. To just know I'm still alive. I can still remember all the times I stayed to feel the hurt, the emotion. Never have I cried so much. Not since that day. The clouds covered my sunshine. Hid my light. The breath is heavy. I can almost feel it on my body. That feeling is unlike any other. Hot, steamy, angry, drunken breath. Stale with hate. I know it all too well. I hate that breath. That feeling. It disgusts me. Leaves me with no will to live. One word could send me into a prison cell. A spiraling death trap. But it wouldn't want to lose its only form of escape. I just wish it would take me away forever, to a place where I can finally be myself. A place where I'm happy. A place where I'm loved. It's almost over. The "Terror" is almost gone. I will finally be able to release this breath I've been holding. I will never forget the pain I've endured. I will never forget how I got here and I will never forget why I deserve this. Hopefully tonight when I put my head down, I will finally be able to get some sleep.

Everything is peaceful for once. No fear. No pain. I know what this means. It always happens when I hide. He gets mad. I should expect this by now, but every time a little more fear is placed within. What if He finally snaps? What if He takes me within his hands and does away with me. I know I say I want it, but I don't know if I'm ready just yet. Sixteen is a little too young to see the light. Then again, so is thirty-two. Any age under eighty is too young to die. No matter what your plan for life is, it can all be taken away in a blink of an eye. That's why I always try to keep my eyes open. I don't want to miss anything. I've already missed the most important moment of my life. I'm not making that mistake again. People say everything happens for a reason. If it does, tell me why my life has been so fucking miserable. And don't say God has bigger plans for me or wants to see me overcome these obstacles. That's bullshit. It always has been. Always will be. I know that when I step out my bedroom doors the words "where were you, you fucking bitch!" are going to come my way. I've heard them way too many times. I also know it won't be the last. Even with the sting of the words, my body is still numb. I'm used to it now. Yeah, some words hurt more than others, but I don't let my guard down. I don't let the fear show on my face. I won't give him the satisfaction.

Everyone is staring at me and I have no idea why. I made sure to cover up the bruises on my neck. All of the eyes are torture. The heat of them on my skin is sickening. I'm not the type of person to crave attention. My chest is in pain and I can feel my throat closing. My mom always said count to ten and everything will be fine. That doesn't work anymore. Nothing works anymore. I could shed tears, but that would only bring more attention. Besides, I haven't cried since November 17, 2002. The tears just won't come. My body won't let them. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be capable of producing a single drop of salty water from my eyes. But there really is no reason for me to cry. Everything has been said and done. I've already lost my way. No turning back. No second chances. I feel someone grab my arm and before I have time to react, I am dragged into the restroom. I can tell from the smell of Lysol and perfume. The hand releases its grip and I am finally able to catch my breath. I look up to see eyes that could rival even the most decadent chocolate. Before I get a chance to see the face of the person who saved me, they run out of the restroom and all I get a glimpse of is a mess of brown curls. Their speedy departure reminds me that I will forever be...unwanted.


	2. Saving Grace

The salty water pours from my eyes

It's a pain I cannot disguise

Never have I hurt this much

Makes me want to scream and punch

I feel so alone

I feel so lost

I lost you and my heart is what it cost

Left alone to face the pain

I sit here as my tears fuse with the rain

Keep it gentle, keep it sweet

You and my future will never meet

You were taken away too soon

Never got the chance to see me bloom

You had so many dreams, so many hopes

But your world was turned dark

I wish you could still be next to me

Uncover the fog; help me see

But I know you're where you need to be

Rest, sleep, be in peace

I have tried so hard to forget everything that brought me to where I am now. But this day, it will never be erased from my memory. No matter how much time passes, the events that happened on this day will be in perfect clarity in my mind and every year it only gets worse. Every year I start to remember just a little bit more. I see details that I had blacked out from my mind. Details I didn't even know I saw. As my body matures it tricks my mind into believing I can handle much more than I really can. My own body is tearing me apart, one memory at a time. It will single handedly be the cause of my demise.

They say time heals all wounds, but what's the exact time frame? Is 8 years not enough time or am I too weak to face my fears and truly get to the root of all my evil. Sometimes I think everything they tell us to get over grief are lies and even I know such lies are a tragedy. They give false hope. You can never be who you were before. At least not fully. Your heart will always be broken and your love will never mean anything. Everything close to you will eventually die off. It's best if you never get close to anything because it will only cause you immense pain. I have cried too many times over something that was taken away from me. The crazy thing is, my heart wants more pain, more hurt. Something, anything to hold on to. For 8 years I have been numb. The only thing I feel is pain. There is no love, no hope, no happiness. I'm drained of everything. Now at 16 there is nothing left. I don't think anything can be found, resurfaced. It would take something really big to bring back feeling to my body. I don't think that something so grand exists in this world.

I don't think many people remember this day, but I do. How can I not? The constant yearning for something more, it reminds me. It always reminds me. It creeps in when I least expect it. Takes what I've spent so long trying to build up and completely destroys it. I can't keep living this way. My mind is going blank. My heart is breaking to pieces. I crave the things I once had. I believe in nothing. Everything flew away in just mere seconds.

I wish I could place it down to rest. Keep it away from damage. I try to solve the problem but I only bring the hurt. But today is a day of mourning. A day where my mind takes me back to that moment in my life that causes me so much pain. I am stuck reliving every detail of my tragic ending, of her tragic ending. They say life holds new gifts when an old one is packaged away. Where is my new gift? I keep hoping it's all a dream. That the last 8 years of my life never happened. That one day I will wake up to the smell of pancakes. Hear the sweet melody of her voice fill my ears. I know it won't happen, but it's the one thing I have left to hope for.

Flashback

"Britt come down here please!" Elizabeth Pierce called out to her daughter.

"Coming mommy!" She shouted back.

"Brittany Susan Pierce, have you been eating all the cookies?"

"Of course not mama" Brittany batted her eyelashes.

"Don't lie to me young lady" Elizabeth had a voice of seriousness.

"Mommy, lying is bad. I would never lie about something I did." Brittany put a sweet smile on her small face. Lying was something she was extremely good at. She knew her mother would notice the cookies missing and therefore confront her about it. Brittany loved attention. Especially from her mother. There wasn't anyone who was a bigger attention hog than Miss Brittany S. Pierce. She had taken to getting into trouble to get attention when being good was no longer working. To say Brittany was smart was an understatement. She was a genius and everyone and their grandmother knew it. It wasn't like Brittany didn't flaunt it everywhere she went.

"Britt you know mommy is really busy today. What do you insist on lying?"

"But I'm not. The gnomes ate them!" Brittany insisted.

"Do you really expect me to believe that young lady?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes" Brittany replied bluntly.

"Ok sweetie. You wanna come with me to get some more?" Elizabeth inquired. She learned long ago to just let Brittany have her way.

"I would love to Elizabeth" Brittany said happily.

"Don't push it"

"Sorry mama" Brittany said with a pout.

"Come here munchkin" Elizabeth said while pulling Brittany into a hug and tickling her.

"Mommy stop, that tickles" Brittany cried out between her laughs.

"Let's go to the store my sweet girl"

End of flashback

As the memory faded away, I noticed the teacher looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked

"I said, do you know why the French Revolution started?" Mr. Dodson asked

"Because someone stole all the French fries?" I said. The class laughed while Mr. Dodson had an unamused look on his face. Now I knew the real reason the French Revolution started but I couldn't let them know that.

"Miss Pierce, while many of your classmates thought that was funny, I did not. I am giving you a choice, give me the right answer or get detention." The teacher exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. He thought he was so intimidating. Well, he wasn't, not even in the slightest bit.

"Well Joe, I think I did give you the right answer." I said

"I do not appreciate you undermining my authority young lady. I suggest you apologize this instant."

"Apologize for what? Having people realize that you're nothing but a pompous, sorry excuse for a teacher that needs to fix his toupée and get a life outside of torturing kids? Or that if it weren't for the fact, thankfully, that there is no other creep willing to teach a bunch of high schoolers history, you wouldn't have a job and you're way out of your league. Or that your wife is thinking about leaving you? The last time I checked, these were all things of your doing so no, I will not apologize. It's not my fault you have no life." I remarked. By this time his face was bright red and I am pretty sure I saw steam coming from his ears.

"Miss Pierce! To principal Lopez's office right now!" Mr. Dodson shouted. Many of the kids in my class were looking at me shocked. There were the few that had impressed looks on their faces. I ignored them all as I made my way to the principal's office, who at this moment, is the only person I know I can trust.

"Ah, Brittany. Long time no see." He said

"Hey Horacio"

"What happened this time?"

"Just Mr. Dodson being a prude. That's all." I said. He just sighed.

"Now Brittany, what did I say about messing with that poor man? You know he's sensitive."

"I know but he makes it so easy. It's not my fault he's a fucking moving target. I mean seriously, never have so many insults popped into my head when looking at one person. I just think he needs a life change. I mean honestly who wants to be in his position? I know I wouldn't." I explained

"Seems like you sure know a lot"

"I would say that, you would say that, everyone would say that." I bragged

"Well since you know so much and since I can no longer let you off with no punishment, I am going to make you a tutor." He said with a smirk on his face

"What! Are you serious?" I yelled

"Yes and I have the perfect person for you!" He said

"Oh, please enlighten me on who this perfect person is." I said less than enthused

"My lovely daughter, Santana. I'm sure you know her." My eyes widened so much I was sure it was comical. Never would I have guessed that would be the name that came out of his mouth. I'm not sure why I was so surprised though, she was his daughter after all.

"I don't think that's going to work out sir."

"Sir? What, do you have a problem with my daughter?"

"NO! It's just that she doesn't exactly like me"

"Well that won't be a problem at all. Santana will be overjoyed to be working with you. I'll make sure of it. You have nothing to worry about. Let me talk to her and we can get a schedule all mapped out." For some reason that didn't sound quite right to me but I wasn't going to say anything about it.

"Sure Horacio. Just let me know."

"Alrighty then. You can go back to class now Brittany. Thank you for your time."

"Anytime" I didn't really feel like going back to class. The room was too small and I always felt like I was suffocating.

Flashback

"Now Britt, we have to go to the bank first ok?" Elizabeth speaks carefully to her daughter, knowing she doesn't like to be delayed.

"But why!" Brittany speaks, anger evident in her tone.

"Because mommy needs money for the cookies sweety"

"That's dumb. You should have money, duh! What are you stupid!" Said the little girl with disdain

"Brittany! Watch your mouth right now or you won't go in with me!" Elizabeth said

"I don't want to go with you anyway!" Brittany screamed

"You know what, fine! If you want to be a spoiled brat then you can stay here." Elizabeth breathed

"Fine!" Huffed Brittany, she didn't want to be in there anyway. She watched as her mom walked into the bank. Maybe she should have been nicer, she was the reason they were here anyway. It's too late now she thought. Everything was said and done and she can always take it back when her mom gets back. If only she wasn't taking so long. Brittany was starting to grow impatient. When her mom got in the car she was gonna gi-

BANG!

End of Flashback

I don't know why I always go back to this. It happened. It's over. It doesn't matter. I always tell myself this but I can never seem to convince myself of its worthlessness. I guess that's because it's worth so much more than I know, it's everything. It's all I have left. It's all I can hold onto. Those last words. The words I never got to say. The ending I never saw coming. The beginning I'm still waiting to happen. It's all there, spinning around in my head. Making me dizzy, making me nauseous. Making me wish for something I can't have. Something I'm not allowed to have.

I'm doing it again. I'm remembering. I hate when this happens. I can never stop it. I don't want to remember. I don't want to hear the laughter that once flowed from my mouth. The love that was once felt worlds over. It makes me feel hollow, like I have nothing. But, I guess it's true. I have no one. All I am are those broken memories. The forgotten hope. The wishful thinking. All the dreams that will never be fulfilled. In reality, I am nothing.

I feel like this would be easier if I had someone to share the pain with but that ship has long since passed. So I suffer alone. It's the only way I know how. No one else understands how I feel. If they did, they would see how much I crumble everyday. How much of me is missing but, they don't. They can't. They have never had their everything ripped away from them in a matter of seconds.

What's the point of living. Like the real point. I always wonder what life has in store for me. That's when I realize, it's nothing. I have no meaning. So why be here? Why go through all the trouble? I don't know. I just don't know.

Flashback

Elizabeth walked into the bank thinking over the conversation with her daughter and not noticing the tension in the room.

"Stop moving!" A woman yelled causing Elizabeth to look up immediately, only to see a gun pointed at her face.

"I-I'm so-sorry!" Elizabeth stuttered out of shock

"Get down now!" The woman yelled. Elizabeth hesitated, the voice sounded familiar.

"I said get down!" Elizabeth knew that voice and she knew it very well.

"Judy? Judy Fabray?" Elizabeth said.

"Shut up! Just shut up right now!"

"Judy, what's going on?"

"I'm warning you, get down right now!" Judy states as she shakes the gun in Elizabeth's direction.

"You don't have to do this Judy. You can walk out of here right now before anyone gets hurt. Everything will be fine. I promise." Elizabeth tried to reason.

"Don't make promises you can't keep Elizabeth. Nothing will go back to normal. Everything will change!"

"Please, Judy, just listen. I will do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to you."

"You promise?" Judy asked.

"I promise." Elizabeth said with sincerity

"NOW!" Someone yelled. Judy turned to see people running towards her. Her hand twitched on instinct, forgetting where she was pointing the gun.

"No-" Everything stilled as Elizabeth fell to the ground, blood rushing from her chest. The life leaving her eyes as quickly as the bullet pierced her skin. No one said a word, all speechless at the events that just took place.

"NO!" Judy yelled as she ran to Elizabeth's side. "Please, please, no. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I promise. I promise." She whispered the last part just as the police came rushing in.

"Ma'am don't move! Put your hands where we can see them!" The chief screamed.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" Judy continued to cry.

"Ma'am, we're only gonna say this one more time. Put your hands up NOW!"

"I'm sorry" Those were the last words anyone heard before a gunshot rang out.

End of Flashback

There's nothing in this world that can describe pain, and I mean truly describe it. Every pain is different. Everyone feels it in a way no one else can. My pain, my pain feels like I'm getting ripped apart by a million rusty nails. Like my heart is getting scooped out by dirty spoons. If you know what it's like to hurt, to really hurt, then you can imagine my pain. If you know what it's like to lose everything you could ever ask for, then you can imagine my pain. If you have ever lost the one thing that means the most to you, then maybe, just maybe you can imagine how I feel. But how do I really feel? It's easy. I feel like you. I feel like I still don't know where to go.

Coward. That's the only word I can think of. It describes so many things. Me. You. Everyone. We are all afraid to do something. We are all cowards. I have accepted it, have you? Have you said to yourself "I'm a coward," I have. So many times have I said "Brittany Susan Pierce, you are a coward. You will never amount to anything. That's all you will ever be. A good for nothing coward, just face it." And I have faced it. That's why I must do this. I have to do this. I have to prove I'm not a coward. I have to go through with this. Here I go…

 **AN: Let me know if I should continue!**


	3. Almost Is Never Enough

**TRIGGER** **WARNING**

Drip, drop

Drip, drop

Like rain down a window

I stroke my brush

I make my picture

As paint runs down my hands

Is it beautiful?

Is it enough?

Do you like what you see?

Can you even see it?

Of course you can't

My picture is private

One I've been painting for years

No one notices

No one sees

I'm running out of paint

As I bleed

 _Where am I? Why is it so bright? I don't remember anything. I don't think I want to. All I hear is constant beeping. Someone please make it stop._

I am not a coward. I am not a coward! Who am I kidding, I am nothing but a coward. I can't do anything right. I mess up everything. I guess that's why my father doesn't want me. I guess that's why he makes himself keep me. Somewhere deep inside I hope he needs me as much as I need him but I know his need is much different than mine.

 **21 hours 17 minutes 37 seconds**

I've been counting down the time. It always happens at the exact same time every year. I know when it's gonna happen but I'm never prepared. I never prepare myself. Then again I never know what to expect. It's different every time. Someone always says something wrong. They always apologize, 'I'm sorry', 'I wish it never happened', 'I wish your family the best'. I don't know why people insist on saying things they don't mean. No one really feels sorry for us. I don't even feel sorry for us. I stopped a long time ago.

Who would believe me if I said 'I'm done' or that 'I'm in pain'? No one, that's who. They never believe the quiet person is the one that's hurting the most. It's always the alternative people or the goth. The ones dressed in black who smoke cigarettes. But what about the girl sitting in the corner, not saying a word. The girl who is hurting so bad that she silently cries herself to sleep at night so no one will notice. What about her? What about all the other people you never suspect of hurting? Maybe you should realize who you're sitting next to.

I always notice but, the worst part is, I never do anything about it. I know I should. I know I could. I can be the one to save that girl but how can I save them when I can't even save myself. Who's going to be the one to save me? Who's going to see that I'm hurting? I know I say I don't need someone but as the time counts down, I know that I do. I need someone to save me from the pain that's consuming me. Someone to keep me from myself. But I can't find them. I can't need them. I wish and I wish but there's nothing I can do. There's nothing I can say. There is nothing.

 **19 hours 12 minutes 5 seconds**

Can you feel it? Can you hear it? I can every single day. I can feel the breath. I can hear the hate. Every. Single. Day. I know I'm not wanted in my house. I don't want to be there anyway. There once was a time when I did but now I just can't. I have nowhere else to go though. How do you hide without a hiding place? How do you stay hidden in all the light. I know most people dream of being in the spotlight but what's the point? That's how we get hurt the most. We get close to people and they leave. They show us they never really cared. They show us we are nothing.

Who really made up the rules? Who came up with all the things society follows? Who made the images everyone wants to be like but can never accomplish? This person, whoever they may be, has started what could very well be the end of a nation. With everyone trying to be something they're not, it's hard to find the people who are honest. The people you can trust. I've been looking for them for a long time. I can't seem to find a single person who truly cares and I guess you can call me a hypocrite. I'm one of those people trying to be someone I'm not. Trying to fit into this impossible mold of the perfect person. I know I will never be perfect but can you blame me for trying? Can you blame anyone from trying?

It's like a never ending circle. Everyone goes around and around but they never get off. I don't think you can ever get off once you get on. It's like being stuck in superglue. But maybe there is a way. Maybe you can get off. I just need to find out how. I keep going on and on. I always trip at the end but, I can never make my way off. Maybe the way off is not a something but a someone. Maybe they have to grab you and pull you to safety. If that's the case, I might just be here forever.

 **15 hours 1 minute 49 seconds**

The time is growing near. With every tick of the clock I can feel my skin crawl. I can see the goosebumps form on my arms. I relive every moment from before. All the hours that I waited. All the seconds that felt like years. It all takes too long. Every moment is like an eternity. An eternity that will never, ever stop being painful. Every twist and every turn. Every tear and every scream. I can feel it on my face. I can hear it ring in my ears. I've never forgotten but then again, I never remember. How can you remember something that's not worth remembering. How can you forget something that's embedded into your brain. The answer is you can't.

Even in the darkness do I see everything. Even in the silence can I hear everything. When there is nothing to see or hear, I can still do both. That's what happens when you're scared all the time. You gain skills you never knew you'd need. You utilize every sense you were given. Everything is so heightened that you feel as if you have super powers. But if I had super powers, I sure as hell wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be stuck in a nightmare where I can't wake up.

Sometimes I dream. Sometimes I let myself have those sweet memories. It's always the same thing. I always wish for a better life. An easier life. One where the grass is green, there's a white picket fence, the dog, and the 2.5 kids. Then my w-. No. This is not the time. This is not the day. I can't fantasize about things that are never gonna happen. What good will it do? Why should I let my imagination show me the things I can never have? I shouldn't and I won't.

 **12 hours 19 minutes 35 seconds**

The thumping of my heart is the only thing letting me know I'm still here. There is nothing else but silence around me. I can't even hear my breath. I know that time is not on my side right now. It seems to be going faster than normal. I don't understand. Why does this always happen? Why must I be haunted by the click on the wall? Hasn't it had enough? Hasn't it seen enough? What makes it want this to go faster. Is it for my own benefit? I don't see how it can be. All I want is for time to slow down. To let me have at least a moment of inner peace. To let me be...normal.

What is normal? What is this word that everyone uses? I don't think I've ever heard a true definition. I don't think I've ever seen a true definition. Is it a human capability to be normal? Is it something that you are born with or does it have to be accomplished? Are babies even "normal"? Can anyone be normal. Does normal mean boring, monotone, unenthusiastic? I don't think normal means anything. I think it's just the somebodies' way of making the nobodies feel as though they are worthless. Well let me tell you, it's working.

How can you let people believe in things you know don't exist? How can you let them think that there is a possibility to be something they're not? To see something that you know can never be seen. It's like letting a kid believe that they can be president or fly to the moon. The chances are it's not gonna happen, so why let them think that? It's filling their heads with unrealistic ideas and images. Your little girl will probably never be a princess, so don't let her think she will be. It's only fair to them. What happens when they grow up and realize you lied to them? How do you explain that? They will never trust you the same way again. Why risk it? Just let them know the truth. It's all that's left in the world. If there is any to be found anyway.

 **7 hours 13 minutes 10 seconds**

Is there really someone watching over us? Can they really shield us from pain and loneliness? Can the people who go to heaven keep us safe? Can my mom keep me safe?

I've never really believed in heaven or God but every year on this day, I always pray. I always hope there is someone up there who can hear me and keep me from drowning in everything to come. I always say the same prayer.

 _Dear God,_

 _Can you keep me safe? Can you show me you exist? Can you use your powers to protect someone who hasn't done anything wrong? Now, can you help me? I'm sorry for what I did. I promise it won't happen again. I'm sorry for being greedy and taking more than I needed. I know you needed another angel but did you have to take mine? Is she still watching over me? Is she still protecting me? Are you still letting her? It was my fault, I know. I'm the reason she's with you. Am I still allowed to want her. Am I still allowed to miss her? Do I have the right? Can I have her back? I know it's pretty much impossible but can you send her back to me? I promise I will be grateful. I promise I will love her with all my heart. I promise I won't do anything wrong. I will never give up on you. I believe you can do this for me. I hope you can do this for me but, if you can't, if it's too much, can you at least stop the pain. Can you keep it away? Can you hide me? I know he won't be in heaven but, I'm trying to make it there myself. Can you forgive me for all my sins? Can you look past all the bad I've done and see all the good I'm trying to do? Will you? I know I'm asking for a lot. I know there are millions of other deserving people out there. People who come before me. People who should come before me but, I'm asking you with all my heart to just let me have this one thing. You will never hear from me again. All I want is to be happy again. Can you give me that? Something I haven't felt in so long. Something that is so foreign to me that it seems like an impossibility. Something I've been wishing for for so many days. I just want that feeling back. The one where I feel loved by someone. Anyone. It doesn't have to be him. It really doesn't. But can I have someone? Just one person to like me for me. To want me for me. To love me for me. Just one person to hold me and tell me they love me. One person I can trust. Someone I know won't leave me no matter what. Even when the times get hard. They will see my bad and think of it as my good. They will think I'm perfect just the way I am. Can I have that? Am I worthy enough to have it? Have I lost all my chances? Please, I'm begging you God, I'm on my knees, let me be loved. Amen._

It's like a mantra in my head. It plays over and over. I've said it since I was 8. I don't think I'll ever forget it. It's my plea. My one way out and I'm still waiting. I will always wait.

 **3 hours 42 minutes 28 seconds**

I wonder how long this will actually go on. Why haven't I told anyone? Why haven't I tried to escape? Who would listen? Where would I go? No one. Nowhere. He would just find me again and it would be worst than ever before. I wouldn't be able to handle it. I wouldn't want to handle it. At least now I can. At least now I have a place to live. A place where I can sleep, even if it's a living nightmare. I'd rather have a nightmare than a blank mind.

I don't have enough time. I never have enough time. It's going to happen. All I can hope is that my worst fear doesn't come true. All I can wish for is a miracle that will never happen. Who would save me anyway? Do I even deserve to be saved? Can I even be saved? What would happen afterwards? Would I live happily ever after in a castle in Neverland? Please. Why would I get something I know I don't deserve.

I always do this. I always doubt myself but, it's easy when there's no one to bring you up. But this is the day where it's the worst. It's always bad but today, it's terrible. I remember all the things I did and I hate myself for them. I hate myself for being that way. She was kind enough to put up with it but I'm not. I can't put up with myself. I can't stand to look at my face in the mirror. To see the face that looks so much like her but so much like him. I hate that I look like him and I hate that I look like her. I always get reminded of what I don't have. Of what hurts me more than anything else on this planet. Of what doesn't want me. I'm always reminded that I'll never be whole again.

 **1 hour 2 minutes 6 seconds**

It's coming soon. I can already feel it. I can already smell it. It makes me want to throw up. Why does this happen to me? Cause you're worthless. I know. Cause no one wants you here. I know. Cause no one needs you, you don't belong here. You're the reason everything went to shit. You're selfish, ungrateful, and not worthy of love! You are nothing and you should just disappear. I know. You tell me every time. I know, ok.

I'm not ready but I'll handle it. I'll do what I can. Maybe just one. That's all I need. To be a bull. To see red. This will be the last time, just like all the other last times. I need it. I want it. I got to have it.

The third drawer, all the way on the left, underneath the Reds cap. That's where I keep it. That's its home. That's where my release lays. The metal feels cool to the touch. A feeling I know so well. Just a little pressure here and my problems disappear. I live by that. I can feel the metal slicing my skin. I can feel the warm blood dripping down my wrist. I can feel the artwork being made. I can feel, something. That's the goal right? To feel what I have before. To feel something other than loneliness. Just one more line. Or maybe two. Three to be safe. Or how about four and no more. No, five and see if I'm still alive. Six to get over the fix. Seven, will I see heaven? Eight, I think I'm too late. Nine, I think it's my time. Ten, is this the end? No. I'm almost there. Almost.

 **10 seconds**

I can hear the door slam.

 **9 seconds**

I can hear the footsteps.

 **8 seconds**

The stairs creak.

 **7 seconds**

The air thickens.

 **6 seconds**

He's at the door.

 **5 seconds**

The handle turns.

 **4 seconds**

He's in the room.

 **3 seconds**

He's coming towards me.

 **2 seconds**

It's go time.

 **1 second**

"You know what's about to happen"

 **AN: Let me know what you think!**


	4. Secrets Slowly Kill

A beautiful blank sheet

Painted black and blue

Once so clean

Now it's ripped to shreds

The artist never gets enough

Doesn't know when to stop

Can you see the pain?

Do you want to?

Go ahead and ignore it

Believe the words

You know they're lies

But why go through more trouble?

You don't need it

But you want it

You want the truth

But the canvas won't say

A picture speaks a thousand words

But are you willing to listen?

Today is the day. Today I finally have to start my punishment. Tutoring? Really? I would have been perfectly fine with a simple suspension or a month's worth of detention. But, tutoring? That's like a death sentence. It forces you to spend time with someone who could possibly learn everything. That can't happen. I won't let it. This situation is too risky. I need a way out of this but, is there one?

I guess missing school wasn't the best idea. It seems like everything has gotten worse. Everyone keeps giving me these looks. It's like they feel sorry for me. I don't want pity. I just want to be left alone. I don't need their concern. It only leads to questions. Questions I can't answer. Questions I won't answer. It's like it's a game to them but, this, it's my life. I have to live through this everyday. I don't get a break. I don't get to walk away from it after the bell rings. If anything I walk farther into it. I live with this regret. I am this regret.

"Miss. Pierce, it's nice of you to join us today." Mr. Dodson says with sarcasm laced in his voice.

"I can never stay away from the wonderful life of history for long Mr. Dodson. Plus, I wanted to see your gorgeous face again." I snark back.

"We are not doing this again Brittany. If you are going to disrupt my class I suggest you leave right now."

"Ok, if you insist." I reply with a shrug of my shoulders as I get up to leave.

"Where do you think you're going!"

"I'm just doing what you asked and leaving"

"I wasn't serious!"

"Yeah well I was, so see ya." With that I walk out of the room. I've never been a fan of history anyway. What's the point in learning about some old dead people that fucked up everything they touched. We all know how it ends. I mean come on, I live in America. I know we got independence and all that jazz. I don't need to learn it for the millionth time. Honestly, history is just a waste of time.

I know I should have thought this through before I left. I have nowhere else to go. I could go to the park but I don't think I can handle all the memories at the moment. It's all been too much. This week has been too much. All the people. All the words. All the pain. It's like making a bad decision over and over and never learning from the pain. I always go back to the one thing that tears me apart. I never learn.

As I'm walking down the hallway assessing my options, I see Santana and Puck sneak out the back door. No one usually goes out there. Plus, it's the middle of class. I don't think anyone else would just skip class but, then again, I didn't plan on it either. For some reason though, I don't think this was a spur of the moment thing.

"Puck, we have to stop"

"Babe come on, just real quick"

Maybe I should come back at another time.

"Puck, seriously stop!"

"Calm down, stop being such a prude. It'll be fine, ok. I promise I'll be gentle."

"Puck, no!"

"Stop struggling so much! I'm not gonna hurt you!"

"You're hurting me now!"

I don't know what's going on but I feel like I should stop it. But do I really want to get involved in this? I already had an altercation with Puckerman, I don't really need another one.

"Noah!"

"Santana, just work with me here!"

I don't know why I'm even contemplating. It's not like I didn't want to in the first place but the sound of panic in that angelic voice. The fact that I know it's Santana. I guess my body has decided for me.

"She said stop!" I yell

"What are you doing here, loser!" Puck yells back as he continued to hold onto a struggling Santana.

"Wow, loser, that's a good one. Did you get it from the big book of kindergarten words?" I say back

"You better watch it Pierce. I can end you like it's nothing."

"What's there to end? I think you should just back off and go back to the kennel you came from."

"That's it!" Puck shouts as he charges towards me. Next thing I know I'm shoved up against the bleachers, gasping for air as Puckerman's forearm pushes into my throat. "I warned you, you low life scum! I told you I'll end you!"

"Go ahead, hit me! I just can't wait for you to."

"Don't tempt me!"

"Do it! Hit me like a punching bag. Make my face cave in! I want you to!" I don't know why I'm doing this. Santana isn't my responsibility. But I do owe her. She did save me last time. Is this worth it though? Am I really doing this for her. Maybe I'm doing this for myself. Maybe I'm doing this to feel something. Do I really want this? Yes. Can I really handle this? No. Am I going to have to? Ye-.

"Puckerman!" All three of us look toward the voice. Coach Beiste is making her way across the field. "Is there as problem here?"

"No, coach." We all say in unison.

"Then please explain to me, Puckerman, why you are holding so tightly to Miss. Pierce here." Noah quickly lets me go.

"We were just playing around coach. Right?" Puck rushes out as he looks to me to confirm his answer. I have two options, I can agree and let him get away with it, or I can disagree and finally let him get what he deserves. I think the answer is obvious.

"Actually coach, Puck here was just showing me some defensive moves. I asked him to help me out." I explain. "He was showing me the proper technique."

"Is this true, Puckerman?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Miss. Lopez, do you confirm what Mr. Puckerman and Miss. Pierce are saying?" We all look at Santana with an expecting look.

"Uh ye-yeah. That's what was happening." She finally confirms.

"Ok then get to class. Now." Coach says as she walks away. Puck looks at me.

"Why'd you do that? You had the perfect chance to bring me down?" He asks.

"Where's the fun in that? Now, you owe me." I state. Puck thinks for a moment.

"I owe you nothing. How can I owe something to someone who is worthless? You're just delaying the inevitable. If I was you, I'd watch my back." He says as he looks me directly in the eyes, making sure I understood his threat. I just nod my head as he walks away. I couldn't think of anything else to say. Even if I could, I don't think my mouth would even work. I got his message loud and clear. This isn't over. I don't think it will ever be over.

"Why'd you do that?" My head snaps to look at Santana.

"What?" I state.

"Why'd you do that?" She says again but slower this time.

"You know most people would just say thank you." I scuff.

"I am thankful. Really, but you didn't have to do that."

"I know I didn't." I deadpan

"Then, why did you?"

"It felt like the right thing to do"

"Well thank you."

"Yeah. Um bye." I need to leave, now.

"Wait! I'll still see you tonight right?"

"What?"

"For tutoring?" Shit.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Bye." I walk as quickly as possible without trying to look like I'm running from her, even though I am. I know it and I know she knows it too.

"Bye." I hear whispered when I'm about ten feet away. I don't think I can do this.

Stupid. Why am I so stupid. I just had to get involved. It wasn't my business. Now I'm in the middle of something that I could have avoided. Now I have to watch my every single move more than usual. Instead of having one thing to fear, I have two. I hate being scared. I don't want to be scared. This is all her fault. Why didn't she just do what he wanted? No. Stop. She didn't have to. She shouldn't be forced. Why was he forcing her anyway? Doesn't he know no means no? This is all just so messed up. Every part of this. I could have just gotten beat up and for what? For a girl who leads the people who make fun of me? For the girl who's dating the person threatening my life? For someone who couldn't care less about me?

I should have just come here in the first place. Nothing bad happens here. It's a safe haven. My one getaway. The place that I really call my home. Can this really be a home? It's not like I don't have a place to sleep. But that place, that place is not home. That bed is not somewhere I want to lay. It's contaminated. It's haunted. It's a soul sucking nightmare. It's not where my heart lies.

The heart. It's an organ. But it's more than that. Everyone says the brain controls everything. In reality, it's the heart. It doesn't listen to a word your brain says. It does the things you wouldn't normally do. The things you're too coward to do. It says the words you're too scared to say. The heart is the mastermind behind all crimes. It dictates who you fall for, who you trust, who you need. It cheats you. It steals from you. What's the point of having a heart? What's the point of being bled dry by your own body? Not being able to control a single aspect of your life. You may think you're in control but the truth is, you're not. You're merely a robot. You're a chess piece in a game against the world. You're waiting for the checkmate. Waiting to fall so madly in love with someone you don't even know. Hoping they're everything you've ever dreamed of. But they won't be. They'll eventually rip your heart to shreds. They'll take it and stomp on it till there's nothing left. Then stomp on it again just to see you suffer. You give that one person complete control of your one lifeline and they take advantage. They use you until they find someone new. And if you are one of those "lucky" people who find their "soulmate" you might feel as if this will never happen to you. It will. They will eventually leave you. Or maybe it's gonna be you who does they leaving. Maybe you'll be the one doing the stomping. The one ripping hearts and ruining lives. Maybe you've already done it. Maybe you've shattered somebody's dreams. Turned them away and made them feel worthless. You may not have meant to, but you did. And let's face it, you'll do it again. As they say, history repeats itself. History. Just get ready. It's coming for you.

You never should have loved me. You made me believe I had it all. You made me think I'd have you forever. You said you would never leave. You promised. You lied. You took my heart and left. It may have been you but I feel like I was the one who was shot in the heart. I feel like I was the one who lost my life that day. In all the flurry of red and blue, I feel like I was the one being carried away. It was so surreal. To see you lying there, not moving. To not be able to feel your hand. Hear your heartbeat put me to sleep. I saw everything but it felt like a dream. It felt like I would just wake up and you'd be there. You'd hold me and say everything was ok. But it was real. It was all real. I lost my heart. I lost my life. I lost what people could only dream of. I lost my soulmate. My best friend. It's true, you were my soulmate. A soulmate doesn't have to be a lover. It's that person who completes you. Who knows you inside and out and always puts you back together again when you fall apart. You were that for me. You picked up my pieces. You glued them together. But how can I be put back together when you took the pieces with you? How can you fix a heart that's no longer there? I don't have a heart anymore. My chest cavity is hallow. I don't know how I live without the one thing that controls all actions. I don't know how I go through every day without the constant beating. I don't know how I find my way home without that compass. I need my heart back. I need it but, it's gone forever. I know now that I can't get it back. It's not coming back. It's gone.

I know I have to do it. I know I have no choice. But I don't really want to. I just want to be by myself. I can't even knock on the door. How can I do this if I can't even hit a piece of wood. A simple flick of the wrist. I can't do it. Maybe if I leave now I can make up an exc-

"Brittany, it's great to see you" Mr. Lopez says as he opens the door.

"Uh, hi Horacio." I say with some nervousness.

"It's ok Brittany. No need to be nervous. Come on in."

"Ok, th-thanks"

"Santana is upstairs. Just a second. Santana Riviera Marie Lopez! Downstairs now!" All I can here is the quick patter of feet and next thing you know Santana is in front of me. I would have said hello had she not been wearing nothing but short shorts and a tank top. "Your tutor is here. Don't mess this up or you will have a punishment. Understood?" I would have missed Santana flinching had I not been studying her.

"Yes sir." Santana says with her head bowed.

"Good. Now take Brittany here up to your room and get some work done." Horacio says. He gives me a smile before he leaves.

"Um you can just follow me. Ok?"

"Huh?" I must have zoned out.

"I said you can follow me. My room is this way." With that Santana walks up the stairs with me right behind her. I was right. This wasn't a good idea.

"What exactly are we studying? I know your dad said you needed a tutor but he never said in what." I find myself asking.

"Oh uh, science, and math, and history, and English." She says shyly.

"So basically everything." I state with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yeah." She says defeated. "Dad didn't like the grades on my report card"

"We haven't gotten report cards yet." I say confused.

"My dad is the principal, remember."

"Oh, yeah." I feel so dumb. "So, uh, what do you want to start with?"

"It doesn't really matter. I suck at every subject anyway." She says with a bit of animosity. "Sorry, that came out harsher than I intended"

"It's fine. Um, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly were your grades?"

"In science I got a B+, English a B, and in history and math I got a B-"

"That doesn't sound bad at all" I say

"It is. It's not perfection. It's not a 4.0" she says with malice.

"Uh right. Sorry. But you do know perfection is impossible right? There's not really a way to be perfect. You can't obtain it. It's not there." I tell her.

"Well try telling that to my dad. I'm sure he would love to hear that." Did she just roll her eyes at me?

"I'm sure Horacio would understand." I say not realizing my mistake.

"Horacio?"

"What?"

"You call my dad Horacio?"

"Oh, uh, yeah."

"Wow, you guys must be close." I can hear something in her voice but I don't know what it is.

"Uh, not really. I've just been in his office a lot." I say. "Because I get in trouble!" I hurry up and rush out after I see the look on her face.

"Look, I'm sorry, ok? I know I'm not being the nicest person right now."

"It's fine."

"I'm gonna change and then we can get started."

"Oh, ok" I watch as she walks to her bathroom. Just as she is about to take her shirt off she must realize I'm looking at her. She quickly closes the door. The only problem is that she doesn't close it all the way. I can still see her through the crack. I don't know why I'm staring at her. I'm not a creep or anything. I should look away. I need to look away. Blue. Wait, what? Black. Everywhere. You can barely see the natural caramel color. I must have stared too long. I must have seen too much. Santana threw her shirt on so fast I thought I was just seeing things. But I know what I saw. A torn canvas. A battered canvas.

"Brittany, it's not what you think" Santana rushes out

"What do I think?"


	5. My Name Is: Santana Lopez

Cover it up

Hide the truth

Keep me on top

Don't show the black and blue

I've sculpted you so well

Please don't crack

Please don't break

I'm not ready

They can't see I'm damaged

They can't see... Me

I need this

I need you

Just don't run away too

Don't leave me by myself

Don't abandon me

I'm begging you

Don't let them see me bleed

 **Trigger Warning**

I don't know why everyone says I have it all. I don't really understand anything actually. Like why do people leave? Why do they just up and leave, without any warning or goodbye. I don't get it. It's like they couldn't care less about everybody else's feelings as long as they're happy. It's selfish and rude. That's the problem with the world. Everybody only thinks about themselves. If they would care for others than maybe we could fix the conflicts. Maybe the wars would stop. We could compromise. But I know it's all wishful thinking. There's no way anybody would actually give themselves to someone without wanting something in return. It's not human nature. We all want something. We all expect something for our selflessness. So what's the point in being selfless? There isn't one. That's why there are so many selfish people. But the reality of the situation is, we don't always get what we want. We get cheated and lose out on something good. They say in the end everything will work out. I just don't see that happening. I don't see me having a happy ending. If I do have one, when is it coming? You were selfish. You took what wasn't yours. I was cheated. What did I get in return? Endless hurt? Heartbreak? Loneliness? It all seems like too much. It all seems like a price I don't want to pay. I don't want to owe anything. Right now I'm in debt. It's because of you. You took and gave nothing. Now I'm expected to give. I'm expected to do the things you couldn't. How could you put all that on me? How could you not love me? How could you?

Perfection. That's what expected. I'm trying. I really am. But it's so hard when I know I'll never be perfect. I can't be perfect. There's just too much wrong with me. Perfection is an art form. It's a beautiful vision of something impossibly possible. It's so hard to accomplish that everyone who has tried has failed miserably. I fear I'm one of those people. I fear that I've given so much of myself to be perfect that I've lost who I am. I don't even remember a time when I was truly myself. Just free. Outgoing. Happy. Human.

Sometimes I think I'm being completely controlled. Like I'm some kind of robot or computer. I would love to say I wasn't responsible, but I know I am. I could have tried. I could have spoken up. But I didn't. I gave in. I let it happen. I just, gave up. It was too hard. I didn't know where to turn. I had nowhere to turn. It was just me and the blank walls. Just me and my cage.

How? How can something so beautiful turn into something so damaged, so ugly? I ask myself that all the time. I've tried to figure it out. I've gone through every possible option. Every possible reason. I've always came up empty. I don't really think there's an answer. If there is one, I don't think I'd like to know. Even though I've been looking for the answers, it may be more than I can handle. The truth may be just a little bit too big to swallow. How can I handle this truth when I haven't been truthful myself? How can I expect to find answers to my questions when I can't even answer everyone else's? I can't take and not give. It's not fair. I'm not like her.

Where do you go? Where's the place that's your complete sanctum? Where's that place that you go to and forget about the world? Forget about all your problems. Forget about all your hurt. That place where you're just you. You're everything you wish you could be and not what everyone wants you to be. Where's your place?

My place? It's simple. It's the park. It's not because of the fresh air or the calming atmosphere. It's not even for the animals or the fact of just being outside. It's because of her. It's because of the blonde haired angel that sits in the trees. The beauty that looks so at peace but so troubled. I don't know what it is but for some reason it calms me to watch over her. To keep her safe. There are so many things threatening to disrupt her. To disrupt me. Where would I be without that release? It feels like a routine. She's always there when I need her. It's like she knows. It's almost too good to be true. Like she isn't really there. I even thought that at some point. That was until she smiled. Until she just let go right under the sunset. Golden locks flowing in the wind, shining like a halo around her head. The light reflecting off blue eyes. Oceans so deep you feel like you could drown in all they are. It was the most majestic sight I've ever seen. It let me know that I wasn't dreaming. I couldn't dream something so perfect. Something so beautiful. It may all sound weird but, it's all I've wished for. Something, someone, to make me feel anything. I just never thought it'd be her.

It's so hard to cover up what's become a part of you. To hide not only the emotional evidence but the physical evidence as well. To make up lie after lie, not to protect yourself but everyone else. To keep them from what they could never in a million years handle. Having to lie to yourself for so long. It drains a lot out of you. The worst part though, was when I started to believe what I was telling myself. It's because he loves you. It's because you deserve it. If you would just try harder it could all be over. If you could fill her spot, he might just love you. If you asked me why I choose to believe every single dishonesty, I don't know if I could give you a solid answer. I have no real reason. I don't know if it's to feel loved again or have a sense of approval but, I do it. I justify what others would classify as wrong. I keep coming up with excuses. I keep reasoning that it's for a good cause. But what's the cause? What's getting better? Nothing. I guess I'm just charity. But why am I giving to my own fund? Why am I paying for all the pain? Can I be non-profit? Can I be priceless? Can I be something?

There's so much I have to do to keep up a false image. There's so much I have to do to put on this mask. But when I take it off...when I take it off, it hurts so much. I don't even recognize myself. I haven't for such a long time. I haven't recognized my body for years. I guess part of it's my fault but, who would think they're beautiful when they get told otherwise almost every day? Who could think they're beautiful when they can't even see themselves? When all they see is the "love". The proof of how much he cares. Every. Single. Punch. It's written like a book across what used to be confidence. Happiness. A book with it's pages torn so badly it's hard to read. Even if you could, there's so much ink covering the words, the real story is hidden. Fading so fast it may never be read again. Black. Blue. Red.

Have you ever thought of the future? What it'd be like to have everything you've dreamed of. Now close your eyes. What do you see? Nothing. That's exactly how much of what you want is going to come true. When you're lost what do you say? I'm in the middle of? Nowhere. That's exactly where you're going. The future is a false pretense. The future is not all we have. That's a lie. It's one big lie. Stop dreaming about what hasn't happened. What could all change in a matter of seconds. Get a grip on reality. The present. It's all we really have. It's all we're guaranteed to have.

I try to stop the bleeding. It won't stop. It won't.

I can't move. It hurts so much.

"You should have learned by now. I don't know why you insist on doing this."

"I'm sorry dad!"

"Sorry? You're sorry?"

"Yes sir!"

"Sorry is not good enough! I need you to learn! I need you to understand!"

"I understand. I do"

"If you understood, we wouldn't be here right now! Do you get what I'm saying Siena!"

"Dad. I'm-I'm Santana." It happens every time. It hurts that he wants me to be you. Why am I not enough? Why were you so much better than me?

"Excuse me?" He yells. I can feel the spit on my face.

"I'm-I'm Santana. Siena is go-" Strike three.

"Shut up!" Even though I know it's coming, it still hurts just as much.

Everyday this happens. Everyday it gets worse. Everyday I'm closer to dying.

The feel of the fist is like getting hit by a train. I can already feel the swelling. Another hit. The blood is already gushing from my lip. One kick. Then two. I can hear the crunching. The brute force of every single hit is astounding. I know I must be a bloody mess. I can't see anything. My head is pounding. I guess that's what six kicks to the head will do. I want it to stop. I need it to stop. He's not being careful. My tears are burning my eyes. I feel like throwing up. His knuckles are digging into my ribs. My skin is ripping. My screams are deafening. I'm being too loud. I can't help it. Why won't she help? Why is she just standing there watching? Why?

"Dad, please! Stop! I understand! I promise, I understand!" I scream

"No, you don't. You don't understand. You can never understand. She left me not you!" He retorts

"She left me too! Not everything is about you!" I yell back without thinking. I immediately know I said the wrong thing.

I can't breathe. I know I'm fading fast. His grip is so tight. I can feel the bruises already forming. Blood vessels are popping. Veins are screaming for air. My heart can't take anymore, yet he squeezes harder. He wants me gone. I can feel his knee digging into my already broken body. His thumbs pressing into my throat.

"Horacio, that's enough." A voice says with a sense of calmness.

"It's never enough! She never learns! Why Siena! Why!" He screams as he squeezes harder.

"Horacio. Let go." It says again. I don't how it can be so cool headed.

"Why should I? She doesn't deserve to live! She's nothing!"

"I know. She's unwanted. She's scum. But we don't need her getting us back from the grave. She's not worth it." I don't know what hurts the most, their words or the lack of oxygen.

"Fine! But this isn't over."

"That's fine. Let's get out of here."

The grip loosens. Air rushes into my lungs. My gasping fills the room. He leaves, but not without a final kick. I'm not in pain. No. I'm way past that. I need to get out of here.

I hurt so much. I can't move. It's never been this bad. I've never been so close to dying. The future was almost gone in a second. It wasn't guaranteed.

I always thought you'd be here. I always thought you'd save me. Protect me. You said you would. You said our future was set in stone. You said nothing could change it. But you did. You changed the whole game. I couldn't wait for us to take on the world together but I guess you didn't want that. I guess it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. We weren't enough. We were a team. We were suppose to be a team.

Mom. Why? Please tell me why.

Right now you'd say I didn't understand. That I didn't get it. That things were too grown up for me but, you're wrong. I've had to grow up so much since you left. I've had to learn so much. I wanted to be a kid. I wanted to stay young forever. You said I could be young forever. You said you'd take the responsibility. Was it too much? Was I too much? Did I hold you back? I want to understand. I'm trying to understand. But, how can I when you aren't here to explain it to me? When you aren't here to break it down for me. Teach me in only the way you know how. How can I understand, when I was never suppose to know in the first place? I guess the secret wasn't so well kept after all.

Can you come back? Please? I need you now more than ever. I need you to explain. To tell me why you left. Why it was so important to leave. Were you trying to protect me? If that's the reason, I don't think it's working. Your plan failed. If anything, it hurt me even more than words can say. You hurt me more than words can say. Please. Come back and be my superhero again.

I never told you but, you were always my hero. You always knew the right things to say. You always knew the right things to do. You were my Batman and I was your Robin. I will always be your Robin. But you're not my Batman anymore. You can't be my Batman. I can't trust you anymore. I can't believe in you anymore. No matter how much I want to. You gave up. On you. On me. On us.

I was suppose to say goodbye but, I wasn't ready. I'm still not. I haven't found someone to fill your place. I don't think anyone can. I never got to say what I wanted to tell you:

 _Someday everything will all make perfect sense so for now, laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears, and keep reminding yourself that everything happens for a reason._


	6. All the Silent Screams

**A/N: I'm sorry I've been away for so long. Things have gotten crazy in my life and I just haven't had the time to get back to this story. I'm posting a new chapter in hopes that some people still might be interested. I've always loved this story and figured I might as well continue. Hope you enjoy!**

You took it with you

You let it die

All the answers

To the problems that lie

I don't know who

But I do know

Its all about you

I want to know

I need the answers

Why am I suffering

What did I do

Why did you go

Did you leave me a clue

Does anyone else know

Is it in their words

The ones so sweet

From an unknown love

One I've yet to meet

Can they tell the truth

Can they enlighten me

On why you had to leave

With everything that could be

Deep down I know

You wanted to say

But alas

You didn't make it to the day

Please just let me in

Please just let me see

Who has the answers

Who could save me

I never knew what it meant to truly wish for heaven on earth. I never knew what it truly meant to be so focused on hiding the truth, that you lose track of reality. You forget what it means to truly be all that you're meant to be. To see everything in a way the makes sense. I've been so consumed by the fire that I've forgotten why it's even started. Why everything changed. How everything changed. I've been a fool to think that everything would get better. That we'd all forget. How could we? How could we erase the very thing that defines our lives now? The very thing that has defined our lives for 3 years. How is it that I could be so blind? How is it that everyone could be so blinded by something that wasn't even there? By something that was all in our heads. How did we all miss the signs? How did we not see? How did I not see?

I've never known the details. I've never wanted to know the details. All I've ever wanted was to know why. That's all I've been asking myself since it happened. It's all I've been trying to figure out. I thought everything was perfect. I thought we had everything we could ever need. But I guess I missed out on the biggest part. The best story. I don't know if I could have helped. I like to think I could. But that just makes it harder. To think I could have been the one to stop it all. But I didn't. I couldn't. You didn't tell me. You wouldn't tell me. I don't understand why. In my soul I feel like I was the answer. That I've been the answer all along. I just can't put all the pieces together. I can't figure out why I played such a role in something I know nothing about. I don't know why everyone is keeping it hidden from me. I don't understand why you kept it hidden from me. Was it that bad? Was it so terrible that you didn't want me involved? Was it something I couldn't handle? Was it more than me? I just want you to know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm sorry I wasn't enough. I'm sorry you didn't think I could be enough. I'm just sorry.

I always try to find the answers to my questions. To everyone's questions. It seems like you did a good job of getting rid of everything that held the truth. Getting rid of the thing that had all the answers. Getting rid of you. It's as if in one short step you took away something that was loved and something that was hated. You halted the pain but took the reason. A little step. A single hop. All the pain. It's ceased to stop. I've gotten it now and I know you didn't want me to. I know you wanted to keep it away from me or at least I wish that to be true. I don't know for sure as I could never get in your mind. But I like to believe that's what I felt. You're protection that day, it's what washed over me. Not that feeling of guilt or regret. But the feeling that you did this for me, to save me from untold evils. That doesn't truly help though. To know I could be reason that you've gone. To know that the reason you aren't here is because I'm too weak. I want you to know I've grown stronger now. I've become someone who can handle myself. I think you'd be proud. I hope you'd be proud.

I found this letter. One of love. I don't know who it's from but I can feel the passion. Their words so strong, paint me a picture of true love. Love I can only hope to feel one day. I read it all the time and I'm sorry. I know that it's suppose to be private but I can't stop. With the love, I can feel the pain. I can feel all the things you didn't want me to. If I read you this letter, would you tell me the truth? If you heard the words again, would you let me in? I only hope so.

 _You are one of the most wonderful people in my life and I have grown awfully attached to the idea of you never leaving and I am having a hard time explaining how I feel. I guess it's partly my fault for letting you so close and I have grown incredibly sad over the fact that I can't tell you the right words or say the right things. Really to sum it all up, I love you so much it makes my sides hurt. So I guess for now I'll write this on things that don't make sense._

 _I saw this color and it made me think of you. I picked it up and took it home and wished you could do the same with me. I know it's weird but when it comes to you, I can't really help it. You make me do things I wouldn't normally do. It's like I can't be myself around you because I'm afraid that you'll see me and think I'm not good enough and that would just kill me. So I hide behind this mask. Everything I say to you is different from what I normally say. I change it so if you reject those things, it won't feel like you're rejecting me as much as if it were my own words. I know it's not the smartest thing to do but I can't help it. It's a defense tactic. It happens whenever I feel threatened._

 _From the first time I saw you, I knew you were different and that scared me. I automatically felt the need to know you. That never happens. All of this is new to me. I've never felt this way. I don't know how to deal with any of this. The worst part is that I have no one to go to. I have to deal with it on my own. Every tear I wipe away myself and that fact makes me even more terrified of what I'm feeling. If I break no one will be there to fix me. If I fall no one will be there to catch me. The biggest problem is I've already fallen. I promise I didn't mean to. It just kind of happened. I've tried to make it go away but I think it only made it worse. Everything just got stronger. I wish I could change all of this. I truly do. But obviously I can't._

 _I want you to know me. I want you to see me. The real me. I'm not the girl everyone thinks I am. I'm the shy girl. The one who hides behind a mask. The one who keeps everything bottled up so people won't run away when they hear the truth. The girl who cares too much about what everyone thinks. The one who cares so much, she won't let herself be happy. Won't let herself show who she truly is. I don't let anyone see the real me because I know they'll judge me. I try my hardest not to judge people before I meet them and I know it doesn't always happen but I think that if I make the effort, others should too. I know it won't happen so I stay hidden. It's the safest place that I know. It hurts but so far, it's been worth it. There are many things I wish I could change but I can't. What's done is done._

 _I know what I want to say but I just can't put it all in words. It's scary to find someone that makes you so happy. You start giving them all of your attention because they're what makes you forget everything bad that's going on in your life. They're the first person you want to talk to in the morning and the last one before you sleep. Just so you can start and end your day with a smile. It all sounds great to have that someone, but it's scary to think how easily they could just leave and take that happiness away when they go. You're that person. I don't know when that happened but it did. It sucks when your whole world depends on someone else because what do you do when that doesn't work out? You're left with nothing. Everything you once knew is now gone. You're lost and don't know what to do. Eventually you get over it, but it takes a long time. You go through all the stages._

 _Denial: you don't want to believe they could just walk away from you so easily and that things have changed_

 _Anger: you hate them for leaving you all alone_

 _Bargaining: you try everything you can to get them to come back_

 _Depression: you can't do anything without thinking about them and everything happy in your life doesn't matter anymore because they're not there to make it worthwhile_

 _Jealousy: you hate everyone who gets to spend time with them_

 _Acceptance: you finally come to terms with what's going on and the fact that they're gone and you can't change what's happened, even though you're not fully over it, you know it's for the best_

 _Each stage varies in time but you go through all of them, nonetheless. No matter what the outcome is, you always end up accepting it._

 _I hope you know that I understand what you did. I know you couldn't bare to see the look on his face. You only broke my heart because you felt it was necessary. I forgive you. I hope you get this letter in time and know that I will always love you._

 _Forever and Always,_

 _BSP_

Who was talking to you? Who loved you so much? Whose heart did you break? Siena, why were you living this double life? You knew I was always there for you. You knew I'd support you no matter what. I just wish you'd told me. I wish you'd have trusted me. But I guess I understand because they're some things I've never told you. There are some things I've continued to hide. I think you knew but didn't want to say until I was ready. Thank you. Were you doing the same? Were you waiting until you were ready? Were you ever going to be ready?


End file.
